


waiting up

by nightquills



Series: it’s our time now (if you want it to be) [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 19:13:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightquills/pseuds/nightquills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean hadn’t meant to, but he had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for Marco to get home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	waiting up

Jean hadn’t meant to, but he had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for Marco to get home.

He realizes this when he wakes with the disconcerting feeling of knowing that a large amount of time has passed without his awareness. Jean thinks back and the last thing he remembers was closing his eyes for a moment--only for a moment, he had reasoned to himself--to the steady drone of an old rerun of _Scooby Doo_ on Boomerang. After that, nothing.

He blearily opens his eyes, and he is greeted with the sight of the dark screen of the TV in front of him. Where before the room had been illuminated by the late afternoon sun, now there’s a quickly receding brightness. That and the light pangs of hunger in his stomach tell him that he was asleep for at least a good two hours.

He shifts his body slightly, arching his spine and extending his legs their full length, curling his toes reflexively where they push up against the other armrest of the couch. His movements draw his attention to the blanket drawn carefully up to his shoulders, and Jean feels a small and drowsy smile stretch his lips because he hadn’t fallen asleep with the knitted afghan, he’s sure of that.

Rubbing his eyes to try and get the sleep out of them, Jean throws his legs over the edge of the couch and the cream colored blanket falls to his feet. He bends over to pick it up with a low groan of complaint, and then folds it in half and then in half again with heavy arms before throwing it over the back of the couch where it belongs.

Jean stands up and stretches again, rolling his shoulders and wincing slightly at the noise of the bones shifting and popping in place.

He then drags himself around the couch, towards the gentle light pouring from the doorway that leads to the kitchen. Jean halts in the doorway, leans against it, and takes a moment to appreciate the gentle murmur of soft breathing and the clacking of laptop keys. He appreciates the sight before him even more than the sounds, though, because there’s Marco sitting at their little table with his back towards Jean. The warm overhead light casts sharp shadows over his shoulders and the arch of his spine, and it’s a sight that Jean thinks he could never, ever get tired of.

Jean makes sure to make some noise as he walks towards Marco so that he doesn't scare him. The shuffling of his feet causes Marco to glance at him over his shoulder and shoot him that brilliant smile of his, the one that reminds Jean of the gentle reflected light of the moon on a clear night. He swallows heavily and feels the corners of his mouth turning up in response.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty. How was your nap?"

"I was trying to wait up for you, but I guess you can see how well that turned out," he answers, and his voice is still slightly raspy from its hours of disuse. He crosses the final steps until he’s standing just behind Marco, and then Jean drapes his upper body along Marco’s back so that his chin is resting on one of the other man’s shoulders.

“It’s alright. I definitely appreciate the thought.”

Jean squints down to look at Marco’s screen, sees that it’s yet another essay, and asks, “How was your class?”

“Mmmm, it was alright... It was dragging on a bit towards the end, though. I’m glad to be home now.” Marco turns his head towards Jean and tenderly presses a kiss to his cheek. Jean leans into Marco with a small noise of contentment--he loves how gentle Marco is with him in moments like this.

He moves from his position and Marco automatically scoots his chair back so that Jean can move to stand in front of him. Jean does just that and stoops forward to slowly press his mouth against Marco’s, his eyes slipping closed lazily as he does so.

The easy and unrushed slide of their lips together and the warm weight of the brunette’s hands on his hips gives Jean a feeling that he often gets when he’s around Marco; it’s a joyous lightness in his head that makes him feel like he could achieve wonders if he only had Marco at his side. But it’s also coupled with a heavy and almost aching weight in his heart, because he’s so full of love for this person in front of him, and how could he be so lucky to have that love returned?

They eventually part with a gentle exhalation of breath in the small space between them, and Jean feels himself grinning. He pulls away and straightens his back so that he’s standing at his full height, slouching just slightly against the edge of the table.

Marco looks up at him and they share a silent and serene moment before the empty feelings of hunger in Jean’s stomach reassert their presence. This prompts him to ask, “Have you eaten yet?”

“Nah, I figured we could do dinner when you got up. What’re you up for?”

“You know I can eat anything. You choose.”

Marco gives a low hum in response, leaning forward in his seat to rest his head against Jean’s abdomen and brace his hands on the table to either side of Jean’s body.

“Is breakfast for dinner okay?”

“Sounds good to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here, have some self-indulgent JeanMarco fluff. I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
